I am a servant by choice, a watcher by nature and an intellectual by design. Read at Risk of discomfort and offense by over-exposure of truth.

Inspirational

How do you kill a nation?
Destroy trust.
Divide it with race wars.
Maintain shock value.
Tear out all history weakening its base while delegitimizing everything it’s people have overcome.
Perpetuate a constant flow of fear and loathing, maintaining stability with consumerism and credit but removing all social securities.
Politically, give each side their chosen leader, electrifying the supporters, and resistors alike. Ensure the appointment is fully an encompassment and an abomination to opposing views. As these will accommodate for great offense and dedication, ensuring a consistent conflict in minds.
Allow limited conflicts to run their course intervening only when numerous injuries or loss of life are imminent.
An anxious, overloaded society will for the most part be unable to resist a national reboot of government and freedoms.
In fact the people will do a majority of the work and beg for restrictions and laws controlling their freedom, for their safety.
If you make them believe their government no longer works for the greater good, or the people and they can no longer work with the opposing party, they will come to believe the Constitution is a failure and call for its repeal and replacement.
After all it’s old, and times have changed. The direction of the world has changed and America is the only power that’s a threat to the unification of world Governments.
And it’s not the American government that resists this flow, but the patriot citizens holding on to old ideals and believe in American Exceptionalism.
Destroy those strengths by exposing, baiting and parading the extremists. Alienate those who believe being exceptional is acceptable and borders being a crime.
Then demonize the entire group. Be it by party affiliation, race, or religion.
Once guilt and shame driven, even if innocent, a solitude, weakened, baseless society is completely inept to resist re-molding.
To minimize organized violent resistance, change the focus weekly with new offensive storylines. A constantly moving assassin can’t be seen much less caught. With the ever changing focus, resistance to the increasing change will be less intrusive on the minds of the targeted subjects, (who is entirely, The peoples of the United States of America). These guidelines limit the causalities of resistance, thus preserving the investment in the United States Corporation, its members and its property(the people).

The New America Project, a country redefined.

By Adam Houle
[My hypothetical thesis of the change guidelines of Corporation]

My terminal has over 200 employees and drivers. Our parking lot is small and people are always waiting on a spot as it’s a 24 hr operation and shifts come and go. This morning I pulled past a spot to back into a spot…upon shifting into reverse I saw a red Honda race into the spot behind me…WTF ITS ON!!😡 I sat for a minute deciding if I could control my actions if I jumped out and yelled at this guy. I saw him climb out he briefly looked my way and averted. I knew this guy! I had talked to him before about taking my assigned company truck during my shift…TWICE. No I could not get out. My truck left a couple black strips as I gently drove to the other end of the parking lot. I could see him peering over and through the cars, yes he understood.

As I began work I struggled with my normal course of action, confrontation. I hate injustice and corner cutting with a passion. It’s not right especially when I’m wronged. Yet, the changes in my heart as of late picked away at that anger. Thoughts of forgiveness crept in. Then understanding. Finally compassion. This guy lives a life cutting corners, scrapping for every edge he can get. He doesn’t realize this lifestyle doesn’t get him ahead but puts him further behind. His misery is enough, and I couldn’t say or do a thing that would promote remorse. Even forgiveness would do little for his rat race. But forgiveness Would free me from bitterness’s poison.

Anger. Forgiveness. They are opposites but they teach the same thing. Love is supreme.

I’m quite sure these words had a completely different meaning for Nina, and I can certainly try to understand her joyous out pouring. I will never experience her trials quite as she did, yet I can most certainly appreciate her openness and celebrate her happiness found in the freedom she expresses in the lines of this song.

What I appreciate about this song most is what it means to me in my life, at this moment. Its vibrations lift me and unequivocally soar alongside my soul, celebrating freedom. Freedom of a different kind. One only I can experience as it grows in the confines of my own soul and mind.

And you, what freedoms do you seek?

Where are you held captive?

Is it perspective?

Perspective.

What a revelation! What an energy!

New perspective is illuminating, freeing as the old clothes and old person peels away as every new truth is revealed and embraced.

I reciently received a quote on achievement. It threw me into a whirlwind of thoughts and reflection. As I meditated on the verb questions and experiences rushed to the surface from unbeknownst corners of my being. Maybe it’s my early 40’s mindset, or the circumstances of recent years, a sudden panic tried to settle in. What have I achieved in my life?

I’ve often envied those who seemingly settle into their lifestyles, careers and genius. They always radiate a sense of completion. Confidently set in their commitments. Happy. They jump into their career or profession early on, make wise investments and now wear the badges of achievement. Whatever that list entails.

In my global thinking, achievement, was a grand accomplishment that has substantial influence and value. Yet I, I have never thought I earned those badges. I’ve struggled to find a niche, always successful, but never fully satisfied of the achievement. So I discounted them as mistakes, or failures. I believed that the time, valuable and short, had been wasted. Would I ever achieve? It became a driving force. I felt I could put to rest the nagging ache in my soul for completion if only I achieved something of value. Value. Yes I would have value if I guided that certain mission to the end. So I did. Many times.

My meditation slid deeper, the memories started flowing. A montage set to music of the last act of a Roy Rogers flick. Thousands of experiences spiraling into one memory, one moment. The picture became a stage play. I’m the lead. I act. The end.

I’ve been performing and performing and pushing for that applause. That roar of acceptance. Those goosebumps of praise. I receive only silence. So I do the act again, this time with more ferver, with more of my soul. My muscles ache from the intense energy poured into the act. I’m shaken. But I deliver, every single line. I don’t miss a beat. I hit my marks as though I’m living it. I am living it. But no applause. I think I hear some snickers, some sighs, a cantankerous cough. I walk stage right. As always there’s my family, my few friends. We merge in a hug. They don’t care if I’m sweaty, drenched with despair. They cling to me because they know me. They love me. They know the struggles and what I’ve poured into this performance. They know my heart and how much I care for the audience. They know. I love them.

As I stare at these images I realize that achievement is present everywhere. This is a successful end. It’s when the curtains fell and I embraced those I love that I achieved. Love is achievement. Love is the goal we all seek. And somehow it’s misconstrued and misguided to be believed to be something entirely different.

If you’ve loved, you have achieved life at its fullest.

I can hear the echo of the last line in the play, I spill forth the words from my soul deep. It’s pure and full in every way, “achievement is only attained if you can say you have loved.”

I am Looking at the picture before me with utmost sincerity and devotion.

I am aware, as best as one could be, the story, is astounding.
I sit as a spectator and watch the events unfold.
The years spill out their truths, long ago suspected.

It is a bitter-sweet reward.

I am more astounded each and every day.

People seemed to enjoy them even though It seemed more therapeutic to ones-self reading back.

Back to therapy.

I am Looking at the picture before me with utmost sincerity and devotion. I am aware, as best as one could be, the story, is astounding. I sit as a spectator and watch the events unfold. The years spill out their truths, long ago suspected. It is a bitter-sweet reward. I am more astounded at the obvious complacency and dependence of the majority. All Industries, all religions, all governments, all advertisers, all advisers, all entertainment, and science, and medicine…ect. ect.. tell you and I how to feel, what we “should” think, and shouldn’t. Only years later to retract, resend, remove, and cover -up. The amount of information available is by far the the most that man has achieved in this generational run. Yet, why is it that we are so mis-informed, misled, misused and mistreated. The technology is in fact going to work against life. It will repress all freedoms.

If all of us are asleep…who will watch the gates? I ask the man standing near by.
“The gates have been broken down and stole away for some time now.” The man answers.
“But i haven’t noticed them missing. There has been conspiracy stories…but.. all hogwash! We are safe in our walls.” I say.
“You cannot see the missing Gates because your eyes have been filled with illusions, magic, mantra. These pleasures and pleasantries and idols and impotent powers have misguided you.” The man replies.
“I don’t believe you!” I scream.
The man touches my eyes and says. “Open your eyes that you may see your captors as they lead you to your sleeping chambers.”
I am Looking at the picture before me with utmost sincerity and devotion.
I am aware, as best as one could be, the story, is astounding.

﻿Love is a choice.

” Love is a choice. Its not something you fall for or into. Its something you choose everyday.” ~Janet Houle ~ This was my mother’s wisdom to me. Growing up I never saw my parents fight. Not one time. My dad was 55 and my mom 49 when they adopted me. They were of the WW2 era and I noticed the difference in them from the start. As I got older I started noticing my friend’s parents yell, scream, argue and name call in front of not only their children but me. This was foreign to me as I never saw this in my own home. It wasn’t till later that I learned from my older sisters that my parents were never really in-love. What?? How could this be?My dad for instance was always such a gentleman with my mom that he would do things such as open doors. The car, the house, at the store (before auto doors) he always put her first. He went to work every day, never did he stay home sick. He consistently provided for her, and never once did I hear him complain about work. He would buy her flowers once in a while with that sheepish grin, trying to hold back his happiness. He would drive home with twinkles in his eyes. He never went out without her, or came home drunk. He never once carried an argument or called her a name. He ‘Loved'(verb) her.Likewise my mom took the same care and showed the same respect as he. She always took care of their home, prepared meals when she got home first, otherwise he would. She was always busy in the home making sure her husband had clean clothes to wear, that he came home to a comfortable haven after a long day at work and out in our walnut groves. She respected him at home and in public places, never undermining him. Even though she was smarter than him and they both knew it. She bought him cards once in a while with witty-fun that he liked. She always let him be a man, and honored and supported him. Respectfully, she ‘loved'(verb) him.In these moments of happiness within each other I would see them look into each others eyes, full smiles..with their partials mismatching the colors of their natural teeth… And in those moments you could FEEL their love.How could it be they weren’t in-love? What was I missing?Well my mom was married at 15, for six months to another man. Upon leaving her first husband for abuse, she was a divorcee with child. In the 40’s this was very taboo. My dad happened to have come home from the war, injured by a grenade, and moved in on her street. “Fat Houle” he was known as by his friends, because he was always a little big. So a marriage of convenience commenced.They were married for 55+ years out of commitment and covenant. They chose everyday to fulfill their vows, to love, honor and cherish. They did it when they didn’t want to, and when they had to. Divorce wasn’t an option. They chose to put their own needs aside and love another. Thats what love is, your own selfishness surrendered to another. It was never about how much one met ‘their’ needs, desires, or how happy they were made. It was how could they serve and help their spouse that day. In the end my mom cared for my dad for years as he slowly slipped away from Alzheimer’s. The struggles and battles of a decaying mind were staggering. But she lived for him. She dressed him and fed him and cared for him in his dissolving child state. She loved him with a love that would rival any love story. Why? Because she chose to love. And at that point she couldn’t do anything but love him. They were one soul.What was their reward? A lifetime of love, security and memories. Commitment kept them together to the end. True love bound them and carried them through the impossible times. Honor wrapped them with a protection of friendship. Respect planted them near waters of strength. They went the distance, by giving themselves to another. Trusting through the hurt that their bonds were unbreakable. Their example shows me that even if one gets the joy of falling head over heals, everyday after that, love is a choice. Choose to love the one your with, it’s worth it in the end.

As I think about my greatest fears today, the lies and accusations of my heart seemingly grow as I feed the fear with my time and energy. The fear of that imagined becomes a mountain of despair, I’m left hopeless time and time again.

But then I’m gently reminded of why I fight. Love. LOVE is the only reason, and as I focus on that perfect love(because it’s selfless) and I’m strengthened. My hope rises and soars. The strength returns to my bones. I’m ready again for another day of absolute war, because I love.

I love. And because of that…I am not afraid.

I choose to stand.

I stand.

I stand.

I will not be moved or swayed in my course.

I will not be succumbed to the terrors beside me.

I will focus on perfect love, because in the end, it IS what remains.

Perfect love endures all, is all.

Adam Houle

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear. -1John 4:18

A day passes me by
I sit and stare
Sometimes at the sky
While I wait
I lose sight of once was
For that time has moved on
As life so does
While I wait
My skin loosens
My hair greys
My eyes lose their glisten
My soul its play
While I wait
I watch those happy to be content
They choose to engage
They pay life’s rent
While I wait
I clutch the monotony
The worlds feeble gray
Within a foggy symphony
Of doubt
While I wait
My mind comes to me
It speaks again of childhood dreams
And what could be
I listen
I imagine
I move
Why not?
While I wait